Early, Early, Early Sunday Morning…

It’s right around midnight as the dog and I sit here channel surfing. Trying to breathe is taking up a lot of my energy. I haven’t been able to do any writing the past few days. This cold’s about wiped me out. I’m on my fourth box of Kleenex since Wednesday. Blech. I had no idea the human body could snuffle in so many different ways. I feel like a Heffalump.

On the upside, I’ve been able to make a few notes for a couple of different scenes. I should be able to work on them in a day or so. Apparently werewolves are horrified by dogs being kept as pets. Especially when they’ve been neutered. We’ll see what they do about it.

Off to find more Kleenex. (sneeze)

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3 thoughts on “Early, Early, Early Sunday Morning…

  1. Lara,I feel your pain. I've got a cold too, though I haven't demolished four boxes of tissues. Maybe only two. Hopefully, you'll make a turn for the better this week, and move on with life! I see you're a teacher. What do you teach?

  2. Awwww, I hope you are feeling better soon! It's hard to focus on writing when you are feeling…blech. I'm sending you some virtual soup (of your choice)and I hope your next week goes well.

  3. Suzanne, I teach math at a local college. This past July it went from a community college to an institution that grants four-year degrees. (Although we don't have a lot of them yet!) I prefer to teach developmental math, because I love the light bulb moment when students realize they can handle a discipline that previously overwhelmed them. My job feels like play. Sometimes I still can't believe I get paid for this.Thanks, Karen! You're virtual soup turned out to be a lovely light blend of chicken broth with garlic boiled in it. Positively yum. I was lucky enough to come up with a couple of scenes today. I took notes on them at work. My H & H are fighting in the kitchen because he calls her on something he knows to be bullshit. She then takes off on her motorcycle to go hang out with the werewolves in Narragansett. She runs into a werewolf friend at the beach – some over-the-top gay diva who is hilarious. He keeps insisting his name is Simon (but he's a werewolf in another book that will someday be in progress). What to do…?I was feeling a little bit better, but I've had a relapse. My throat is all scratchy and on fire. And, to add insult to major injury, I forgot to get some tea and OJ when I was at the grocery store earlier. Crap.

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